


Reckless Creatures

by Emono



Series: Safe and Sound [4]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos is starting to get freaked out, Cecil takes no one's shit, Cecil's true form, M/M, dog park, injuries, some violence, strangeness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 07:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos's curiosity gets the best of him and he goes to the Dog Park, despite Cecil's warnings. What he finds is nothing short of horrifying. He runs to the only person who can help him, and he his not pleased by the liberties the Hooded Figures have taken. </p><p>More character development, more growing friendship, set after "Episode 2".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reckless Creatures

**This installment was inspired by this lovely fanart right[here](http://soupengine.deviantart.com/art/dog-park-390812311). No photoset for this one, nothing I came up with was good enough. **

* * *

 

Carlos managed to get a hold of Cecil just a few days after the so-called 'Glow Cloud' had receded into nothingness. It was late into the evening and they had both closed their respective work stations for the night. Cecil had been busy all day repairing some of the equipment in his booth that had spontaneously combusted and the scientist had been busy through the morning with goo that may or may not have come from some of the Angels.

 

They walked side by side as the night set in, talking amongst themselves about the events that had taken up their time. It was a strange, new experience for the both of them. Cecil had never been good a making intimate friends and Carlos was a loner by nature. To have someone to share the small details of your life with and know you wouldn't be judged was nothing less than...refreshing.

 

“I caught your last radio show,” Carlos informed him after a long stretch of silence.

 

“Did you really?” Cecil's lips turned up at the corners, “I hope you liked it.”

 

“I was more concerned,” he pulled his coat tighter around him, suddenly wishing he had brought something sturdier for the cool desert night, “Before the...uh, Glow Cloud receded I heard you slip off a bit. Like it was affecting you.”

 

“I admit to losing my focus, but it was quite powerful,” Cecil loosened his pale blue scarf, offering it with one hand, “Please.”

 

“No, I couldn't – Cecil!” Carlos protested, but he radio host ignored him and chose to loop the soft material around his neck, “This is a little inappropriate.”

 

“Hush,” Cecil scolded, wrapping the scarf up so it tucked beneath the scientist's chin and covered the vulnerable throb of his neck. It sent a possessive thrill up the host's spine as he thought of Carlos in _his_ clothes. But he had no right to think like that and quickly scolded himself, easing back until he couldn't feel or taste the man's body heat.

 

“Thank you,” Carlos continued to walk, fingers dancing along the edge of the cloth, “It's nice.”

 

Cecil nodded and followed alongside him, the faintest brush of lavender across the apples of his cheeks. The growing dark of the night thankfully hid his embarrassment. They turned the corner of the sidewalk, the hedges they had been walking beside growing far past their heads. As Carlos talked about Eric's slowly dissolving fingernails and liquid band-aid, his hand came up to idly pass through the leaves and catch on the small branches within the bush.

 

“There's a wall behind this,” the ravenette mentioned in passing, the black stone a smooth contrast to the vines over it.

 

Soon enough they came across the broad, double wooden doors that lead into the hedged area. It had a simple of message of _Do Not Enter_ written neatly across white plasterboard, a few bolts keeping it in place. Carlos paused, nails skimming the wood before his hand dropped back to his side.

 

“What's this?”

 

“Nothing,” Cecil assured him too politely, dread bubbling up in his stomach as he recognized the scientist's curious tone, “A park closed for the night. That's all.”

 

“A park? Wait, what street are we on?” Carlos whipped around and caught sight of the signs _Earl_ and _Summerset_ , “Is this the dog park?”

 

Cecil's jaw tightened as he watched the man's hands started skimming the door for some sort of handle.

 

“I've been wanting to run some experiments on this place,” Carlos groped under the sign to pry it loose, “I wish I had thought to bring my thermal gun, I wanted to see if these so-called 'hooded figures' had a heat reading above or below human level. I also wanted to look for specific magnetic readings. Did you know there are waves we can't even pick up on machines that can work their way into human brains and alter chemical production. It's remarkable and rare, and if it were to be found anywhere I had hoped it would be here. _Oh_ , there's the latch.”

 

“Carlos,” Cecil purred, linking their arms and forcing the scientist away from the doors, “Tell me more about these waves.”

 

“Well, our brains are sensitive to radiation, so they're the most qualified part of the body to pick them up,” Carlos explained distractedly, his eyes still on the doors even as he was lead away, “I just want to go in for a moment. I want to see what's inside.”

 

Cecil hummed to show he was listening but his mind was focused toward getting the other back of his lab. They'd agree to walk a few blocks before doubling back and they only had two streets until they got back. If he could just shove Carlos into his car, then maybe the man would realize he needed to forget all about the dog park (that certainly didn't exist).

 

Carlos didn't look pleased but he followed him anyway, mind whirling.

 

***

 

Cecil was sorting through his memos when he heard knocking a his door.

 

It sounded desperate.

 

He made his way across his apartment, buttoning up his shirt in an attempt to look presentable. He usually tried to dress up a bit when he was in public and he didn't like others to see him in disarray. He had a reputation to maintain and answering the door with ruffled hair and no shoes certainly wasn't a part of it. He pulled the door open, looking over the peson standing behind it.

 

It was Carlos.

 

His heart swelled with rage.

 

Carlos flinched when he saw his friend's kind face go sharp, the hall behind him seeming to darken. He clutched his injured arm to his chest, stammering out an apology. He was too busy staring at the ground to see Cecil almost immediately soften up, dark ink fluttering around his wrists and the line of his collar before receding.

 

“Carlos,” he ushered the man inside, the name like a plea, “What happened?”

 

“I...” the scientist cursed himself, “I went back to the dog park.”

 

Cecil laid a gentle hand along the base of the ravenette's back, leading him to the living room and sitting him down.

 

“Wait,” Carlos rasped, “I'll ruin the couch.”

 

“Darling...” Cecil breathed out. He looked the scientist over and felt his heart break. There was a bleeding cut dashed across his handsome face, crimson soaking through a few spots in his shirt as well. There were fang marks ripped into the denim of his jeans, more wet flesh peaking through. He sported a limp and couldn't extend his arm, pain etched into the very color of his eyes. True, he _was_ bleeding everywhere, but that was the least of Cecil's worries.

 

“Just stay there.”

 

He made his way to the kitchen, gathering his extensive med kit and his composure. Carlos needed him to be strong and above all _stay normal_. If he slipped now he risked throwing away all his progress. He had to keep it together. He couldn't mess this up.

 

Cecil walked back into the living room, ready to follow through with his plan, but stopped short at the sight. Carlos was staring down at his hand, slick with blood from touching his face. His shoulders were visibly trembling and these little hitched breaths were escaping him.

 

The scientist looked up and caught him staring, “I'm sorry, I'm fine. I-It's just the adrenaline...I can't seem to shake it off. It's like a caffeine crash but I – I – ”

 

Cecil came to his side, a low hiss escaping the back of his throat. Sleeves were rolled up to reveal milky forearms and an order of _don't move_ was issued. He tugged off the protesting man's shirts to expose the bruises and cuts from his scuffle, his hands quick in cleaning and disinfecting each one. Tears of scarlet were wiped away to reveal toffee colored flesh once more.

 

Carlos bit down on his tongue and tried not to make a sound as the chemical stings lingered. Cecil looked infuriated and he didn't want to rouse any more anger. He shouldn't have gone back to the park, or at least he shouldn't have come back here and admitted to it. The place had spooked him, he would admit that to himself. The moment he'd entered a sharp ringing had invaded his ears and shadows had swarmed upon him, swallowing up the meager light from the lamp posts until he couldn't see. He'd ran on instinct and the things had chased him, those hooded figures from the stories seemingly forming out of thin air. Dogs, hunchbacked beasts with white teeth, had joined them. Carlos had fallen a few times upon the paved pathway and had paid for it, his calves decorated in shallow puncture marks from where he'd barely ripped his limb from those fanged mouths.

 

He'd never been so terrified in all this life.

 

A strangled whine ground out of him. Cecil's hand came up to smooth his hair back.

 

The moment he'd escaped he'd thought of nothing but Cecil. He ran the full three blocks without hesitation, his mind stuck on nothing but safety and a soothing voice.

 

Carlos watched his friend's entire demeanor harden, something about him flickering. The hinted dark ink that was always almost peeking out from his beneath his clothes seemed...well, _grow_. Those tattoos slithered down his arms, curling and weaving intricate patterns of symbols and thick lines. They were beautiful. Carlos blinked hard and looked away, convinced he was more affected than he'd thought. He was probably going into shock or something. How much blood had he lost? How late was it? When was the last time he slept or ate?

 

Delusions, that was it. Just simple hallucinations brought on by his overworked mind and this fantastically strange town. Cecil was nothing to be frightened of. They were friends, he wouldn't hurt him. Something in his brain had decided he needed to see those secretive marks and had created something to appease him.

 

“They have claws,” Carlos said to distract himself as Cecil carefully cleaned the long cut on his face, “Whatever they are beneath those robes, they have claws. One got me when I fell.”

 

“You won't need stitches,” it would've been said in relief if the man's voice hadn't been so tightly wound with rage, “Do you know which one did it?”

 

The scientist shook his head, selectively silent.

 

“I wish you hadn't found out like this,” that anger was uncoiling into something softer, “This is a terrible lesson to learn the hard way.”

 

“Lesson?” he inquired, gaze still on the carpet.

 

“Carlos...there are things you don't do in Night Vale,” Cecil tried to explain, taking the cork out of a bottle full of healing salve, “Things that are off-limits. I'm sure there's much for you to learn without venturing into places you shouldn't be.”

 

“That's half the fun,” Carlos jested weakly. He gasped as cream was spread over the cut, the usual sting replaced by a soothing chill.

 

“Is that a local remedy?”

 

Cecil made that odd sort of sound that meant he didn't really want to explain, “It should help you heal up in a few days.”

 

“Thank you,” Carlos reached up and blanketed the other's hand, pausing his motions. They met eyes and he tried to smile. The tattoos were gone. So it had been his imagination.

 

“I wish you'd stay out of trouble,” Cecil grumbled, though his hand didn't move.

 

“I came here for trouble.”

 

Cecil dropped his fingers back to the jar, “Let's get some on your arm.”

 

***

 

He managed to wait one night before his rage got the better of him.

 

Cecil didn't hesitate to rip the sign off the dog park's double doors, the material crumpling under his grip. He threw the doors open and exposed the smooth asphalt paths and the ebony obelisk that dominated the center. He'd only been here once and it had been enough to ebb his curiosity. This time he wasn't here to access a threat. Now was the time to establish who's town this was.

 

The doors slammed behind Cecil but he paid no heed to it. Their tricks wouldn't scare him. He headed down the nearest path, gaze staying straight ahead as he pointedly ignored the gathering darkness. A lamp flickered out somewhere behind him. He had nothing to fear. He brought his own shadows.

 

Cecil stopped at the first crux he came across and they crowded in fast. Rows with ridges of hoods, cloaks covering rather normal clothes. They couldn't fool him, he could see the ivory glint of their fangs and the hazy outlines of their true forms. They were hideous and bulking, jam-packed into humanesque forms. They were filled with a quiet, controlling hate.

 

They had nothing on him.

 

Cecil took a long breath and felt himself expand, six extra limbs phasing through his clothes and curling out to show off their size. It was rare he let so many out but had a point to make. He grew his full height, body thickening out to make him seven imposing feet. He could feel the familiar shift of his eyes, fangs grazing his lower lip as they extended, tongue unfurling within his mouth.

 

It was all together natural and unfamiliar. Cecil rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight, feeling his way back into his own body. It had been much too long since he'd let out his true self, too caught up in playing normal to remember to let himself breathe in his own skin once in a while. For the first time in months, his third eye was wide open.

 

He saw everything there was to see and he found no fear within himself.

 

“Back off the scientist,” Cecil barely recognized his own voice, half-expecting gravel to spill from his lips through each word, “You are never to hurt him again. He's under my protection.”

 

 _'You do not know who we are'_ , whispered through the air, _'You do not know what we are capable of.'_

 

“You don't know what _I'm_ capable of!” Cecil bellowed, a few of them backing off. He stalked forward, following the circle they'd made around him to be sure they all saw his face. So that they saw how serious he was about this.

 

' _He is an outsider._ '

 

“And so are all of you,” he pointed out sharply, “You come into our plane and start making demands and touching our things. You didn't think for one moment that someone would complain?”

 

' _He would see this place bottled and caged._ '

 

“I don't care,” and he didn't, “If you shed his blood again, I will burn this place to the ground. There will be nothing left when I'm through with your park and everything in it.”

 

The figures stayed silent and towering. He took it as their compliance from the way their true forms hunched, defeat weighing on them in the face of the host's anger.

 

Cecil receded into himself, appendages curling back within him and staining his skin with designs. They always existed, in one way or another, and it was always safe to keep them contained into simple marks beneath his clothes. He put the lid back on his power, sealing himself away again.

 

“Thank you for your time,” Cecil nodded, dipping a little to show his respect, “I'll be going now.”

 

***

 

_Two Days Later_

 

Carlos slapped his hand down onto his squealing alarm clock, the one he was sure wasn't right. But he was on Night Vale time and it was the best he could do. He dragged himself out of bed by pure will alone, groggy from his late night. He made his way to the bathroom, feet slapping off the pristine white tile that covered every inch of the floor.

 

Moving on auto-pilot, he scrubbed his face and rinsed the sleep-taste out of his mouth. Everything was still a little blurry when he raised his head to towel off his face, touch hesitant so he didn't hurt the cut there. He accidentally pressed too hard but felt nothing. No pain, no tenderness, no rasp of scab.

 

Carlos blinked at his reflection, the cloth dropping from his hands. His face looked fine. The cut was gone completely, healed to leave behind a fine pink line down his cheek. He prodded the shiny flesh but there was no pain. It had been as harsh as the bites on his leg last night.

 

He looked down at his arm, flexing it testingly. It felt fine. Bruised and immovable before he went to bed, now perfectly fine.

 

The salve.

 

Carlos looked back to the mirror and found surprise on his face, along with a curl of something else akin to admiration. Cecil had given him a scientific miracle, something he'd love to get his hands on. He'd never ask the man for it but the nagging curiosity wouldn't be easily sated. There was something off about the radio host, the strangeness of the town sewn just as deeply into him as it had to everyone else. Maybe deeper. He recalled his hallucination about the tattoos.

 

What had he really seen?

 


End file.
